


The Demon of Turing

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Catalyst Verse [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Again not in the fun way, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Established Relationship, F/F, people get eaten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6884884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is wrong in the Village of Turing. Livestock has mysteriously gone missing. Guardsman Fusco, seeming to be the only one taking the threat seriously, sends a message to the capitol for help. Two lunatics showing up in reply wasn't exactly what he was hoping for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon of Turing

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this one isn't the big sequel either. But I realized that Lionel was only in one chapter of Catalyst's Tale and not at all in Champion, and spoilers, there wont be a huge opportunity to weave him in to the big sequel if I work the plot the way I think I will. So I thought we needed to make a side trip for some Fusco because he's funny and has been able to grow so much from where he started on the show and I kinda love the guy in my own special way.  
> Also how freaking good was 6741? Everything else is garbage. This is garbage (but fun garbage). Other TV is garbage. It was just so, so good!

 

 

The dark little alchemy shop near the back of the Goblin Market had become very familiar to Shaw over the years. It wasn’t uncommon for Root to drag her inside whenever they visited the market, and they visited the market whenever they came and went from the capitol. Shaw was comfortable here. The musty aroma of old books and racks full of dried herbs reminded her a bit of Root actually. Today was a rare occasion however. Shaw had come to the shop alone.

 

She leaned against the waist high counter where customers could place custom orders. Daizo, the shop’s proprietor, was seated on a tall stool on the opposite side so that he could see the entirety of the shop over the furniture. “So what do you think?”

 

The little man tapped his chin. On first glance one might think him a child, due to his small stature and cherubic features. However, one look into his black eyes and you knew with absolute certainty that something ancient was looking back at you.

 

He smiled, “You have a keen eye for detail.”

 

“A necessity when growing up in the guild,” She countered. An assassin that couldn’t notice the fine details of a situation was often a dead assassin.

 

“Yes,” He laughed. “I imagine so.” He turned Shaw’s open sketch book on the counter between them. “This is an excellent idea. She’ll love it.”

 

“I’m more concerned about whether this will keep her from blowing up the manor when she’s tinkering than if she’ll have warm fuzzy feelings about the gesture.” Shaw had been woken from a dead sleep the other night from the library gaining a new, unintended skylight due to Root’s tinkering with saltpetre and a few other compounds. Shaw liked having a stable roof over her head and Root needed a dedicated space for her research.

 

“This arrangement would work for her though right?” It didn’t matter if the other woman liked it when Shaw was finished, honestly it didn’t. But Root wouldn’t use a space she didn’t like. That would completely defeat Shaw’s purpose. It was the only reason she was seeking out the shopkeeper’s opinion.

 

Daizo smiled as if seeing right through her bluster. Anyone that knew Root and Shaw knew the pair were tied. And that Shaw liked seeing Root happy no matter how much Shaw grumbled to the contrary. “The way you have everything drawn out, I’m sure your home will be quite safe from Root’s more vigorous experimenting.”

 

Shaw nodded. “Does this layout cover everything she’d need?” If she was going to do this thing, she was going to go all the way. Root was going to have the best workshop this side of the Shining Sea. She trusted Daizo’s expertise to help her make it happen.

 

“I’d add a few additional drying racks for herbs here, and here,” He tapped two places on the layout. “Perhaps adding a skylight here for ventilation?” He circled another area.

 

“Yeah, probably a good idea. The fumes off some of that stuff can make Root a little loopy.” Woman was loopy enough on her own. No need to encourage any extra craziness.

 

“When will you begin construction?”

 

“As soon as I get back.” Shaw gestured towards the back entrance to the store. Daizo’s establishment was the only one to have an additional entrance cut through the thick stone wall of the Goblin Market. “I’ve got a wagon out back with most of the construction supplies already. Spent the last few days clearing the land behind the stables. Root’s going to be busy the next two weeks in the capitol, scaring a bunch of visiting nobles for Lady Morgan.”

 

King Harold had called a summit of several noble houses to discuss the state of the kingdom. The tenuous truce with Decima still held and so the king’s attention had turned to affairs closer to home. There were whispers of discontent among some of the houses. Harold was a much different ruler than his brother and it was never more evident than in times of peace. While many, both noble and peasant prospered under his regime, there were those that wished for a return to a more traditional way of doing things even after well over a decade of his reign. Zoe and Lady Carter had both agreed that Root should attend in an unofficial capacity in order to keep an eye on some of the more troublesome lords.

 

Root had already been gone a week. Shaw had begged off attending and for once she was given a break. Most likely due to the fact that she scared people almost as much as her fiancé and having the both of them in attendance would be overkill at this juncture. She grew bored after two days, thus her plan to build a proper workshop for Root was born.

 

“I have a few pieces in back that would be most useful for your purposes,” Daizo smiled at her. He turned his head and let out a loud whistle.

 

After a moment his assistant Romeo stumbled through the door to the back of the shop. His arms were straining under a crate full of, Shaw tilted her head to the side, salamanders? The sandy haired man looked a hair’s breadth from dropping his burden already. When he looked up and saw Shaw he nearly walked into one of the drying racks.

 

“Mind your feet,” Daizo snapped at him. “Put that down and then go load two of the crates we received from the dales into Shaw’s wagon. And don’t drop anything.” Romeo nodded and disappeared behind some of the shelves to set down his burden.

 

Shaw didn’t blame Daizo for his curt response. On one of her first visits, Romeo had tripped over his own feet and dropped a case of samples. Daniel, one of Root’s smuggler friends, had lost several teeth in the resulting explosion and Root’s hair had taken two months to return to its normal warm tone from a bright blue. That was only a minor incident, it didn’t pay to be clumsy around this stuff.

 

The wind blowing in from the open door had caused the pages in the sketchbook to turn. Shaw reached out to flip them back to the designs for Root’s new workshop but Daizo beat her to it, slapping his palm down on the open page. He dragged the book closer to him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, “Where did you see this?”

 

She had drawn the pattern on the page after a particularly vivid nightmare. “Dreams,” Shaw replied. No sense lying to the man, he had a way of knowing when someone was bullshitting him.

 

“How long?”

 

“Since the storm last spring.” He knew exactly what storm she was talking about. A tempest rose up from the sea and had struck the capitol hard. A few ships had been lost in the harbor. Low laying areas of the city had flooded. Lightning strikes had caused several fires. It had been an absolute mess.

 

“I think it brought back some stuff from when I was a kid.” Shaw’s memories from before she was taken in to the guild were spotty. She remembered drips and drabs of life with her father. His ship, various ports, the cottage she stayed in with an older woman, who she thinks she was related to but she knew wasn’t her mother. His voice screaming her name over the howls of the wind the night another storm had taken him from her.

 

Daizo nodded, “A memory then.”

 

Shaw ran her fingers across the page, “You recognize this?”

 

“It’s the Demon’s mark. The brand worn by members of his crew.” Shaw raised an eyebrow. The Demon was a legend of the seas. The undying pirate lord, stalking the trade routes on a ghost ship with a crew of…oddities.

 

“You’re telling me I’m having visions of a pirate brand?”

 

He shook his head at her tone, “You asked.”

 

“I thought the Demon was a myth?” Something sailors’ wives told their brats to keep them from following their fathers to the sea. A way for widows to explain why their husbands never came home again after a storm.

 

Daizo tapped the page with a finger, “I am certain you thought Samaritan was a myth at one point in time.”

 

Shaw dipped her head, he had her there. So if the Demon was real, how and why would she specifically remember this mark? She needed to know more. “Can you keep this to yourself for now?”

 

“I am happy to keep a friend’s confidences but may I ask why you do not wish for Root to know?”

 

The guy cut right to the quick. “You’ve given me a place to begin. I just want to gather more intel before I drag her into another mess.”

 

“Need I remind you that Root rather enjoys messes?” He grinned, “And she more than enjoys your company. She’d want to help you.”

 

She knew that. But Root also had enough on her shoulders trying to help Zoe and her uncle keep the nobles in line. Shaw wasn’t about to add to her burdens. Especially with nothing more than the fact that she was having weird dreams that may or may not have to do with pirates. She would not bring Root in on this with only that. “And I’ll let her. I just want to know more first.”

 

“Very well, my lips are sealed. But if you’d allow it, I can make a few discreet inquiries of my own?”

 

Shaw nodded, “Do it. I’ll owe you one.”

 

“A favor from the Champion of Thornhill, fortune smiles upon me this day.”

 

“That favor better not require the loaning of any blood or body parts,” A voice drifted in from the front of the shop. Shaw turned slightly to see Root lounging against the frame of the now open door. “No one needs an effigy of my lady and I’d rather not see her cursed.”

 

Daizo held up his hands, “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

 

“Uh huh,” Root clicked her tongue against her teeth. “You forget I’ve known you since I was a child, Dai.”

 

“You create a cursed poppet one time,” Daizo grumbled good naturedly. He knew she didn’t mean anything by the jibe. They trusted each other with their lives many times over. That trust extended to Shaw now. He would never harm her and Root knew it.

 

Shaw closed the cover of her sketchbook before addressing her. “What are you doing here?”

 

Root smiled as she made her way over to the counter, “It was either leave or stab Lady Claypool in the eye with one of her knitting needles.” Root absolutely detested that woman and the feeling was more than mutual. “She’s demanding that Harry allow her to resettle Claypool Village again.”

 

There was nothing in that area but graves and ash. During Samaritan’s long captivity, the kingdom, and the world, had moved on and abandoned the western territory. Some had begun to make a pilgrimage to pay their respects, now that the threat of Samaritan was gone, but the area was decidedly out of the way. Lady Claypool claimed the land was hers by right, which was somewhat hilarious seeing as the Claypool name was her late husband’s not her own. But even ignoring that tenuous tie, the area was barren. There was no good reason to resettle. And yet the woman kept pushing for it.

 

Root shook her head; it was a matter for another day. “I was surprised when She told me you were here, Shaw.”

 

“I had things to do.”

 

Root leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “It’s cute that you’ve made some friends.” Shaw elbowed her in the gut. She laughed as she dodged the blow, “My, someone is feeling frisky today. I take it you missed me.”

 

“Like saddle sores.”

 

“I am all about that ass.” Shaw groaned and set her head down on the counter. That one was bad even for Root. Daizo shook his head at the pair of them, as he quietly enjoyed the show.

 

“Oh Dai, do you still have those boar hunting spears?”

 

He rubbed his chin as he ran through a mental inventory of his stock. “I believe so. Check with Romeo in the back.”

 

Shaw tilted her head so that she could peer at Root with her left eye. “Do I even want to know what you need spears for?”

 

Root leaned over and kissed Shaw’s cheek. “Those are actually for you, Sweetie. Another reason why I left the summit early, we’ve got a mission.” She skipped towards the back of the shop. “She also says we’ll need the large medical kit this time, Daizo.” With that she disappeared between the racks.

 

The shopkeeper and Shaw looked at each other and then back towards where Root had last been seen. Daizo cleared his throat, “Well, she never allows you to get bored does she?”

 

Shaw clicked her tongue, “Nope.” He reached for the sketchbook still resting on the counter between them. He flipped it open and pulled out the pages with the design for the workshop. Shaw glared at him, “What are you doing?”

 

Daizo smiled at her, “Since you’ll be busy for a bit, I’ll get the boys together and take care of this.” He tucked the pages inside of his robe and scrambled down from the stool. Shaw had to lean over the counter to see more than the top of his head.

 

“But…”

 

He held up a hand to silence her protest before it began, “I know you wished to do this for Root. There will still be ample work for you to finish. We can get the basic structure up while you take care of whatever requires spears and a great deal of medicinal herbs.” He stepped from behind the counter and gestured around the shop, “Besides business has been a bit slow. It’s the perfect time to take a break before the harvest rush.”

 

Shaw pursed her lips. That made sense. When it came down to it, it was her idea and her design they’d be working from. Nothing wrong with letting someone else do part of the work as long as the job got done. “Tell Romeo if any of my stuff goes missing that I’ll cut off his hands first.”

 

“Not even he is foolish enough to steal from you and Root.”

 

Root was a bit surprised that Shaw had brought the wagon instead of Razgovor to the market. Not wanting to spoil the whole workshop plan, Shaw quickly spun a tale about the wagon they kept at the manor needing some repairs. “I suppose we’ll just have to double up on Harley,” Root smiled without care. She swiftly climbed on to the back of the black horse and pat the saddle in front of her. “Hop on, Shaw.”

 

They rode for a few hours before making camp for the evening. Years spent working side by side meant that the routine of setting everything up was handled quickly and efficiently. Soon a fire was crackling merrily with a pot of stew warming beside it. Shaw was leaning against Harley’s saddle, sharpening the point on one of her newly acquired boar spears, while Root reclined beside her watching the stars.

 

“So what’s the job?”

 

Root kept her eyes on the sky. “Guardsman Fusco of the Turing garrison sent word to the capitol about some missing livestock.”

 

“You left the summit early because some farmer lost his cow?” Shaw shook her head as she tested the edge of the blade with her thumb. Satisfied with her work she set the first spear aside and began working on the second.

 

“Because She says that whatever took the cows, plural, is dangerous and will attack the village if we don’t stop it.”

 

“Why can’t the guard deal with it?”

 

“For one, whatever it is, it’s big.”

 

Shaw stopped the motion of the whetstone against the spearhead. “Wait, She doesn’t know?”

 

Root tensed beside her. “Apparently, it’s difficult to see.”

 

“The last time She had vision issues…”

 

Root sighed. “Involved Samaritan, I know.” She actually sounded worried.

 

Shaw set the spear aside to focus completely on Root. “I killed that fucker. Samaritan is gone.”

 

“He wasn’t the only creature of magic around these parts, Sweetie.” Root finally glanced over at her to smile reassuringly.

 

Shaw nodded, “So what’s the other thing?”

 

“Well, half the proprietors in the market for one.” She rolled on to her side to face Shaw fully, “Just the other day one of the idiots at court was rambling about losing one of his cargo ships to a siren.”

 

“No,” Shaw grumbled. “I’m not asking for a primer on the care and feeding of magical creatures.”

 

“Then, what were you asking?” Root chuckled.

 

“You said for one this thing is big.” Shaw held up one finger and then two, “For one implies there’s a second thing involved.”

 

“Oh the Guard Captain thinks it’s just plain old bandits.”

 

“I thought Fusco was the Guard Captain.” He was at least two years ago, when Shaw had last spent quality time in the Village of Turing. She hadn’t done more than ride through the little hamlet when traveling between the capitol and their home in The Groves since though.

 

Root sat up. “After Simmons set that fire at the inn, it spread to other parts of the village.”

 

“I know that, Root.” It had made Shaw livid when she found out. It was bad enough the guy had turned Decima traitor and attacked the others King Harold had assigned to try and take out the dragon Samaritan, but the fact that civilians were collateral damage? Former Lord Simmons had a great deal to answer for when the agents of the king finally caught up to him.

 

“Many in the village blamed poor Fusco for not stopping Simmons from setting it.” There was a note of something in Root’s tone that Shaw couldn’t quite place.

 

“How would he have known?” The only reason why Shaw made it out of the inn unscathed was that the voice in Root’s head had told her Simmons had been plotting something, and she had informed Shaw.

 

Root shrugged, “You know how people can be.”

 

“Assholes?”

 

“I don’t know if I’d put it quite so indelicately.”

 

“Yeah, you’re just a delicate flower,” Shaw rolled her eyes. She had heard Root use far more inventive curses in her sleep.

 

“Indeed,” Root laughed, the sarcasm of the reply not lost on her in the least. “Now are there any more questions or would you like to pluck me?” Shaw groaned at the horrible pun but pulled a grinning Root on to her lap nonetheless.

 

After a very pleasant evening they set out again. They rode into Turing at about midday. Their first stop was the local inn. “We should probably check in with the garrison,” Shaw noted as she climbed down from the saddle. She quickly took their saddle bags before Root could grab them.

 

Root flipped a coin to the inn’s stable hand as he scrambled to take Harley’s reins. “An excellent idea, Sweetie.” She started for the front of the inn. “Let’s get our accommodations for the evening squared away first.”

 

Turing’s garrison was headquartered in a long, stone building on the north side of the village proper. A stable for the guards’ horses bracketed it at one end and a small smithy on the other. The barracks itself took up half the main building with an armory and small meeting hall on the opposite end. Shaw pushed the door open to this space and waved Root inside.

 

The room was empty except for one young man sitting with his feet propped up on a table reading a book. He did not look up when they stepped inside. Shaw cleared her throat, “We’re looking for your captain.”

 

“It’s uh…tea time at Mistress Eleanor’s, good luck seeing him before sundown,” The boy replied without looking up. Did he mean? Shaw glanced at Root who winked. Well, alright then.

 

“Fine. What about a guardsman named Fusco?”

 

“He’s on the south tower today.” He still didn’t look up from his book. He also didn’t offer to show them the way. Not that they needed the help. Root would know where to go. It was just the principle of the thing.

 

“Thanks for the help,” Shaw sarcastically grumbled. The boy waved a hand, utterly focused on his reading. “No wonder Simmons was able to torch this place if that’s the quality of the guard stationed here,” She told Root as they stepped back out into the square.

 

“More like there was a dearth of quality replacements willing to work in the village after the fire,” Root corrected her. “After the mayor called for Fusco to be removed from his position, he placed his cousin in command.”

 

“And John went along with it?”

 

“He was a little preoccupied at the time if you remember.” Root nodded to two matrons who seemed to recognize her. One of them let out a sort of squeak and the two quickly turned and started walking in the opposite direction.

 

Shaw smirked at her partner’s antics. Root had certainly made an impression on the folks around here. And they didn’t even know who they were really dealing with. “Yeah, I get that John was busy for a little while. But to leave these idiots in charge after everything calmed down? It’s been years.”

 

“Maybe that’s another reason why She sent us to look into things.” Root directed Shaw to turn down a small path between two houses with a light hand on the small of her back.

 

“Great so your special friend has us doing John’s job for him now too. Is there anything in this kingdom I won’t be expected to handle eventually?”

 

“It’s a sign of trust, Sweetie.”

 

“Trust is overrated.”

 

The wooden guard tower rose well above the rooftops. Four enormous legs supported a square platform covered by a pointed, thatched roof for a bit of protection from the elements. Shaw could see two figures milling about up there but she really wasn’t in the mood to climb up the rickety looking ladder to find their guy.

 

“Fusco?” Shaw yelled up at the tower.

 

“Who’s asking?” Came the gruff reply.

 

“Shaw.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Ser Shaw of Thornhill,” Root shouted before Shaw could snap out another, more indelicate, answer. “We received your message.”

 

“What the? Cripes, I’ll be right down.” They heard the scuff of boots across the platform and then a larger fellow was sliding down the ladder with more grace than its construction or his frame should have allowed.

 

Amused at the guard’s reaction, Shaw smirked at Root. “Yes, you’re very fearsome.”

 

“Damn right.”

 

Fusco’s feet hit the ground with a pronounced slap. His green and gold uniform was wrinkled. He tried to smooth down his tunic and adjusted his belt, before he ambled over to them stopping a couple of paces away from Shaw. He looked her up and down, “Thought you’d be taller.”

 

She rolled her eyes. Why did everyone harp on the height thing? She was just slightly closer to the asses she kicked than other people. Where was the issue? “Thought you’d be smarter.”

 

“Now kids, play nice,” Root chided them.

 

Fusco startled at the sound of her voice as if he hadn’t fully recognized who had been standing beside Shaw before that moment. He quickly recovered, however, and nodded to Root. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

 

“Awe did you miss me?”

 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you finally got eaten, out in the wood.”

 

Shaw held up a hand before Root could answer with what she was sure would be a near pornographic reply. Most likely involving her somehow to boot. “You sent word to the capitol about some missing livestock?”

 

“I called for help, not you two lunatics.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at that. “Two lunatics?”

 

“Yeah,” Fusco jabbed a thick finger in Root’s direction. “You’re riding with that one so you must be crazy.”

 

“You said in your letter that you have monsters attacking livestock. That you’re afraid they’ll move on to eating people.” Shaw squared her shoulders, “I kill dragons.”

 

“Dragon, Sweetie. You've only killed the one.”

 

“One more than anyone else around here has. And my partner,” Shaw ignored the way Root bounced at the term, “She's King Harold's expert on the Blackwood.”

 

“It's true, no one knows it better than me.”

 

“So?” Fusco still seemed unconvinced.

 

“So we're the best chance you've got of stopping this, whatever it is.”

 

He looked like she had just handed him a plate of rotten fish and called it dinner. “We're freaking doomed is what you're telling me.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Root’s favorite imaginary friend was going to owe her big time for this headache. She glowered at Fusco. “How about you stop complaining and show us what you’ve found so far?”

 

After Fusco convinced one of his peers to take over the rest of his shift in the watch tower, they rode out south of the village. Shaw borrowed a horse from the garrison for the trip. Root only pouted about it for the first half of the journey.

 

Along the way Fusco explained that he was taking them to the location of the latest disturbance. “There was a bit of rain the other day. Ground around the pastures was soft. Left some good tracks.”

 

If there were tracks, then why hadn’t the Guard Captain requested help himself? “And your Captain doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about?”

 

“He thinks it’s just bandits.”

 

“And you don’t?”

 

Fusco shook his head. “They don’t bother with cattle. Plenty of travelers along the road to pinch for some quick gold.” He shifted in his saddle, “And they tend to stick to the northern road.”

 

Shaw remembered. Root smiled at her, clearly thinking about their encounter with the bandits as well. If Shaw had only known the weird course her life would take after that meeting. She shook her head, “So what’s your theory?”

 

“You’ll see when we get there,” Fusco grumbled. He took them to a small farm a little less than half an hour’s ride from the village. After a brief conversation with the landowner, a man named Brown who promised to secure their horses in the paddock beside the barn, Fusco led Root and Shaw into an empty pasture on the western edge of the property.

 

The split rail fence that lined the pasture looked as if a giant had kicked a section of it in. Shaw glanced around. The fence row was separated from the edge of the wood by a small strip of grass. It couldn’t be more than twenty paces across. But if something big was angry enough and had a running start. “You said they cleared this land recently?”

 

Fusco nodded, “Just this spring.”

 

She knelt down to look at the lower fence rung. “No sign of tool marks. Wood’s splintered through force alone.”

 

“I know. I got eyes too,” Fusco groused, as if she was wasting his time.

 

Part of the wood looked stained. Shaw ran the nail of her thumb across one especially dark spot. Bits of the dark mark flaked off under pressure. She rubbed the flakes between her fingers. “This might be blood. Whatever took the cow crashed through the fence here, got jabbed in the side by one of these jagged edges maybe.”

 

Fusco sucked in his cheeks. He had clearly missed that detail. He blew out a loud breath, “Alright you I understand, but what's with Madame Creepy?”

 

Shaw snapped her head up to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

 

He pointed at Root who was further back in the pasture poking a pile of cow shit with a stick. “The Weird Sister? Why exactly am I supposed to take offers of help from her?”

 

“Because of my sparkling personality, Lionel.” Root replied. She dropped the stick seemingly abandoning her task.

 

“How do you know my name?” He turned his head to gape at Shaw. "How does she know my name?"

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, "You mean besides the fact that you both used to hang around the same backwater tavern?" She stood up. Root hardly needed her little friend to know that.

 

Root came to stand beside Fusco. “Your father named you after a snow cat he once saw in a traveling menagerie.”

 

“How does she know that?” Shaw simply shrugged at him. That little tidbit wasn’t so easy to explain. She wasn’t about to go into the whole talks to a god thing. He already thought Root was crazy. She doubted the guardsman would believe her, even if she wanted to tell him about Root’s special friend.

 

Root laid a hand on his arm. “Trust me. I'm here to help.”

 

“Yeah, Lionel.” Shaw grumbled, "We're here to help." She moved away from the broken fence. “You said there were tracks?”

 

“Yeah,” He swallowed. “Over there. Closer to the tree line.” He stomped past her, clearly still uncomfortable with them.

 

Shaw frowned at Root. When the other woman raised an eyebrow in question Shaw nodded back towards the pasture. “Do I even want to know?”

 

“You were investigating. I was investigating.”

 

Shaw just knew she was going to regret asking but she did it anyway, “And what mysteries did the pile of manure reveal?”

 

“The bones of several small animals.”

 

Now Shaw wasn’t a farmer but, “Cows don’t eat small animals.”

 

“Exactly.” Root was obviously proud of her discovery.

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “So something smashed through the fence, relieved itself and then made off with one of Farmer Brown’s prize steers.”

 

“Seems so,” Root shrugged. She started walking after Fusco. Shaw fell into step beside her. “And whatever it is. It’s big.”

 

“No shit.” Shaw shook her head at her own unintended pun. “Forget I said that.”

 

Root bumped her hip, “But I adore your sense of humor.”

 

“You would.”

 

“Are you two ladies going to join me anytime today?” Fusco shouted at them. He was still a fair clip down the fence row from them.

 

“Scared the big bad wolf is going to get you, Lionel?” Shaw teased. She received a rather rude gesture in reply.

 

“Well, he certainly seems to be warming up to you,” Root smiled. Shaw rolled her eyes and increased her pace.

 

The impression in the dirt was easily as large as a serving platter and that wasn’t including the claws, each as long as Shaw’s hand from wrist to fingertips. She sucked in a breath between her teeth. This thing was big. Very big. There was a span of at least ten paces between it and another similar print a little further into the trees.

 

She blinked up at Fusco. “Did you show the Guard Captain these tracks when you found them?” He nodded. “Then why is he off messing around in the tea house instead of out here looking for whatever made them?”

 

“Because I’m the idiot that let half the town burn down on my watch and now I’m crying wolf.”

 

“Your captain is the idiot. These tracks are clearly not from a wolf.”

 

“Sweetie, not really helping,” Root scolded from over Fusco’s shoulder.

 

He held up a hand, “It’s fine. Why should she take me seriously? No one else does anymore not even my own kid.”

 

“Okay this self-pity thing you’ve got going on is already old,” Shaw grumbled as she stood up. She’d feel sorry for the guy except she didn’t feel sorry for anyone as a rule and they had much, much bigger things to worry about. “So let’s move on from that and to the fact that you’re right about these tracks being something to be concerned about.”

 

“Wait, I am?” He looked surprised she believed him even when she was standing next to clear proof he was right.

 

Shaw nodded, “Like I said not a wolf. The base shape, let alone the size, is all wrong. Definitely not bandits, and way too big for any normal predators.” It almost looked like a bear claw but it was far too large and bears weren’t known to haul off cows from the middle of fields besides. Whatever it was, the fact that it was drawing ever closer to the village and the people within it was of great concern.

 

“So I was right to send a message to the capitol?”

 

Shaw glanced at Root as if to ask if Fusco was actually serious. Root simply grinned. “I told you we were sent here to help, Lionel.”

 

He looked down at the track, “Thanks.”

 

Root nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “Let’s get back to town, figure out our next step.”

 

“I’ll go let Brown know we’re done out here.” Fusco started back towards the farm house while Root and Shaw walked towards the paddock where they left the horses to graze.

 

“Why are you being nice?”

 

“What’s wrong with showing a little compassion? Trying to spare someone’s feelings?”

 

“Other than you’re not in the habit of doing it?” As a rule, outside of her little family, Root did not do nice. Well, not unless she was working an angle on some idiot. Fusco had the same goal as them, stop whatever was threatening the village. There was no need for Root to coddle him.

 

“I am so offended right now.”

 

Shaw stopped walking. “Root, come on. What’s the deal?”

 

She stopped walking as well but didn’t turn around. “I didn’t warn him about the fire.”

 

So? “You were sort of busy saving the entire kingdom at the time.”

 

“I could have warned someone.” Oh, well Shaw couldn’t say she had expected that reaction from Root.

 

“Hey,” Shaw moved until she was standing in front of Root. When warm brown eyes looked up at her she replied, “So could have I.”

 

“It’s not the same.” Root shook her head, “Fusco was always nice, if a little gruff, to me when I came to the village. And now…” She trailed off. Everyone treated her like she was some sort of savage or simpleton for living out in the wood. By everyone’s reactions today, they still believed it to be a fact. Sure Fusco thought she was mad, but he didn’t think she was stupid. It was an odd sort of respect. One she hadn’t returned in kind.

 

“And now his life has gone to shit and you’ve convinced yourself that you’re to blame.” Shaw should have made the connection sooner. Though, in her defense, remorse and Root didn’t typically go together.

 

“Well aren’t I?”

 

“Simmons set the fire, Root. Not you. What if you had sounded the alarm? He might have tried it anyway. Maybe even called his men in and raised the entire village instead of just setting the fire.” Shaw placed a hand on Root’s arm. “Asking what if is pointless. It’s done. All you can do is help the guy stop whatever is threatening the village now.”

 

Root nodded, “I don’t know why you say you’re not good with people’s feelings.”

 

“I’m not,” Shaw shrugged and began walking again. “It’s not like you react to things like normal people do.”

 

“So you’re saying I’m special?”

 

“No.” Shaw grumbled and began walking faster. Root shook her head with a fond smile and followed.

 

The ride back was uneventful. Fusco was a bit more talkative, reviewing what he knew of the other attacks. Root asked questions here and there, at the behest of her eye in the sky Shaw was certain.

 

“Where have you been, Fusco?” A wiry man with captain’s bars on his shoulder shouted as they made their way into the village square.

 

“Ser Shaw requested a tour,” Root chimed in when it appeared that all Fusco was going to do is glare sourly in reply to the man’s inquiry.

 

He turned his nose up at her, either because he didn’t recognize her from before or perhaps because he did judging by how similar his expression was to the looks Root had received from the villagers earlier. “And that required the use of one of my men?” He grumbled.

 

“We were told you were indisposed,” Shaw grumbled right back. “Something about afternoon tea?”

 

The Captain cleared his throat, “Yes, well. I trust Fusco didn’t manage to bungle a simple tour?”

 

“He was a fine guide,” Root replied.

 

The Captain ignored her and turned his full attention to Shaw. “If you wish Fusco can be at your disposal for the rest of your stay.” His eyes narrowed, “Exactly what is the reason for your visit?”

 

Root poked Shaw in the back, hard. Apparently, she didn’t want to Shaw to give the man the actual reason. “King Harold wishes for a report on the fall harvest.”

 

“And he sent a knight?”

 

“I serve where the king wishes me to serve. There was also a bit of talk in the capitol of an increase of bandits along the southern road.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I will be assessing your men while I’m here as well.”

 

“I assure you things are well in hand.” He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with the prospect. “I’m afraid however that most of my men will be indisposed for the next few days.”

 

“Why is that?” Fusco interrupted. “We’re not scheduled for any drills.”

 

“No, Fusco we are not,” He stressed the we. He turned back to Shaw, “You’ve heard correctly. There have been bandits spotted in the area. Though they will soon be swinging from a rope.”

 

“Bandits have actually been seen on the southern road?” She pressed. She highly doubted it and her tone reflected that doubt.

 

“Well, no,” He admitted. “Some livestock has come up missing. It’s nothing to concern yourself or the king over.”

 

“I’ll bet.”

 

“Fusco, I’ll need to review the watch schedule with you before we depart. I’m leaving Brandt and the twins in the village with you.”

 

“The three of them have barely started shaving,” Fusco protested.

 

“I need my best with me on this hunt. We will have to enter the wood.” He glanced over at Root then and sneered. It was clear now that his attitude was because he recognized her. “God only knows what or who will await us once there.” Root for her part only smiled at the dig.

 

He nodded to Shaw, “Besides one of King Harold’s own knights will be in the village. No one would dare start any trouble with her here.”

 

“Sure, whatever,” Fusco huffed.

 

“I trust I won’t return to a bunch of burnt out ruins?”

 

“Not unless I decide to visit your home,” Shaw muttered under her breath.

 

“Pardon?” The Captain asked.

 

“I am sure matters in the village will be well in hand while you’re away,” She replied. “And I will be inspecting the barracks in your absence, and your men as soon as you return.” She suppressed a grin as his chin gave the slightest quiver. Good, she hoped he was worried about the prospect of a proper inspection. This guy was a jackass. She seriously doubted things were being run to Reese’s standard, let alone hers.

 

“Of course.” He bowed his head. “If you’ll excuse us I really must prepare my men to depart.”

 

“Good luck,” Root chimed in cheerily.

 

“Yes, thank you,” He mumbled and stomped off. Fusco shrugged at them, and turned to follow.

 

Shaw reached out and caught his arm. “We’re staying at the inn. Meet us there in the morning after breakfast.” He nodded and then stomped off after his captain.

 

“I can definitely see why She opted to send us,” Root thoughtfully noted.

 

“Why exactly didn’t we tell Captain Jackass the reason for our visit?” Shaw hissed now that they were practically alone. The few villagers milling about the square were giving them a wide berth. So she wasn’t at all worried about being overheard.

 

“It wouldn’t have mattered. He’s convinced he’s right about it being bandits.”

 

“He’s a moron. Those tracks we saw weren’t man made.” Shaw squinted up at the sky, tendrils of pink and purple were already spreading from the west. “Dark’s not far off. Why in the hell would he set out now?”

 

“To catch the bandits unawares in their camp perhaps?”

 

Shaw scoffed, “You mean the bandits that don’t exist?”

 

“He doesn’t have sense enough to know that,” Root sighed. “But it gets him out of our way for now.”

 

It was a pretty mercenary way of looking at things. Shaw couldn’t fault the logic though. Still just because one guy was an asshole didn’t mean his men deserved to suffer for it, “And if the idiot and his men get eaten by whatever left those tracks?”

 

“Whatever we’re hunting will indubitably suffer a bit of indigestion I’m sure.” Root ran a hand through her hair. “She’s mulled it over.” Root tapped her right temple. “Even if we explain our reservations he won’t listen. Nor will most of his men I’m afraid. They don’t trust Fusco or I, and they resent Harry sending you here.”

 

“Even though they clearly need the help?” Sure their captain was just that stupid, but the entire garrison couldn’t be idiots could they?

 

“They don’t see it that way.” Root bit her lip, “Honestly, they’re not likely to find a damn thing. That many men traipsing through the wood? The noise will scare anything off, and while they stumble around blind, we can get to work.”

 

It wasn’t Root’s worst plan. Shaw shook her head. She didn’t have a better idea at the moment either. “Come on. Let’s go find some food.”

 

They spent the next day with Fusco visiting two other farms where livestock had gone missing in the past few weeks. There hadn’t been any other tracks discovered but the damage to fencing around the fields and pens had been similar. Something big had simply charged its way through and then made off with the goods. None of the land owners had seen anything of use either.

 

No word had come from the hunting party. Shaw didn’t know if that was a good sign or not, frankly. At sunset Root and Shaw returned to the inn, while Fusco headed to check in with the man stationed in the south watchtower. All in all, it was a quiet day. Shaw settled down that night with the sneaking suspicion that things wouldn’t remain that quiet for long.

 

If left to her own devices Root would be completely nocturnal. “I work in the shadows, Sweetie,” She often protested whenever life tried to pull them from their bed before Root believed was the proper time. The proper time was often well after mid-day. On the other hand, years of harsh physical training in the guild and then time spent later in life owning and operating a forge had instilled a habit of early rising within Shaw. Of course she could be convinced to remain in bed well past sun up with the proper convincing.

 

Root was doing an admirable job of it, the following morning. “What about the mission?” Shaw groaned as sharp, white teeth nipped at her hip.

 

“Do you really want me to stop?” She could feel Root smiling against her skin. When Shaw didn’t reply she raked her nails across her inner thigh. “Honestly?”

 

No, no she did not want her to stop. She tightened her grip on Root’s hair and began to guide her to where she really wanted her mouth to rest. Just when things were getting interesting, a harsh knock at the door caused Shaw to transfer her grip to the back of Root’s neck and reluctantly pull her away. “What?” She barked.

 

“Get up,” Came Fusco’s muffled voice. “There’s something you need to see.”

 

That something was the two remaining survivors of the hunting party. They had stumbled, bloody and beaten into the village square just after dawn. The first had succumbed to his wounds before the healer could be roused from his bed and the other was barely holding on.

 

Shaw blinked against the bright morning sun as she and Fusco stepped out of the healer’s home. The now lone survivor had passed out from pain and exhaustion before they arrived. The healer assured them that they weren’t getting anything out of him today. “Did they say anything useful?”

 

Fusco shook his head, “That one just kept rambling on about glowing eyes in the dark.”

 

“Any sign of the others?”

 

“No. They couldn’t have gotten very far though seeing as those two made it back in that shape.” Fusco rubbed his chin. It was clear he hadn’t had a chance to shave that morning. From the bags under his eyes Shaw wondered if he had gotten any sleep either. “Obviously I’m not about to send anyone else into the wood,” He grumbled. “Sent one of the boys to the capitol to ask for more men to be garrisoned here on an emergency assignment until we can get this figured out.”

 

Shaw nodded. The extra manpower would definitely be needed. “I’m sure the Knight Commander will send more men as soon as he is told.” She wouldn’t be surprised if John rode in himself to save the day.

 

“Technically, I’m Captain again, until someone else is sent seeing as I’m the most senior.” Fusco rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t have enough men to man the towers let alone defend the village if whatever got my guys decides to come here.”

 

“So we track it down before it does.”

 

“With as many wounds as those boys had, their trail shouldn’t be hard to find. Just follow the blood stains.” They walked towards the small shrine on the eastern edge of the village where bodies were taken to prep for funeral rites. Fusco pulled the brass plated door open and waved for Shaw to go in ahead of him. “I figured the three of us could go hunting after the Weird Sister finished getting a good look at the body.”

 

“No time like the present then,” Root’s voice drifted out to them from a room just to the side of the entrance.

 

Shaw followed the sound to find her washing her hands in a small basin of water. The shrouded body of the dead guardsman laid in an alcove just behind her. “Well?”

 

“Poor bastard’s ribcage was smashed to pieces on his right side. It’s a wonder he made it back to the village,” Root replied as she dried her hands on a clean strip of linen. It was an impressive feat of endurance even with the crude field dressing his friend had managed to apply. “You’ve studied more anatomy than I have, Sweetie.” She held her arm out and made a swiping motion in the air. “But I think it’s safe to say the wounds on the body were made by claws.”

 

Shaw nodded, “Same with our guy.”

 

“Lionel,” Root turned to address the third member of their party. “Perhaps you might want to ask for a few volunteers to help man the south tower specifically?”

 

He nodded, “The blacksmith and his boy have helped out before.”

 

“You should go talk to them while we get some equipment together. Make arrangements for someone to keep an eye on your son for a couple of days. We’ll meet in front of the inn in an hour?”

 

“Sounds like we’re going hunting.”

 

“You were always a bright one, Lionel.” He rolled his eyes and left the room. The door slammed not long after.

 

The priest wandered in then and asked if Root had finished with the body. “Does he have any family to provide for last rites?” The man shook his head. Shaw reached into the coin purse on her hip and dug out a few coins. “Make sure he’s taken care of.” The priest nodded and thanked her as he accepted the payment.

 

“You know the guard has a fund for that,” Root pointed out as they left the shrine.

 

“You think that’s on Fusco’s mind right now?”

 

She considered it for a moment, “Point taken.”

 

Shaw took Root by the elbow to steer her around a rut in the lane, “Any insight from Her?”

 

“Bring the spears.”

 

“That’s comforting.” This was such a fine time for Root’s god to get finicky about handing out information.

 

Root was unperturbed by the bit of mystery. “Aren’t you glad I remembered to pack them?”

 

The leaves were resplendent in shades of crimson and gold. It was if the forest was aflame. So much beauty almost made a body forget just how dangerous the Blackwood around them could be. Root glanced over her shoulder to smile back at Shaw, speaking of a dangerous beauty. “How far do you think they made it into the wood?”

 

Shaw licked her bottom lip while she thought, “Can’t be too much further in.”

 

“They were gone for a day before those boys stumbled back to Turing.”

 

“True,” Shaw agreed. They had only been walking for a few hours. “But running with wounds like that would have made them bleed out long before they got back to the village. After an initial sprint, I bet they took it slow, but even then they only had so much time, so much blood.”

 

“They would have made camp somewhere around here,” Fusco offered. He had changed from his guard uniform into a set of weathered brown leathers. He still carried his company issued shield slung over his shoulder. The two headed stag that formed the majority of the Turing crest stared back at Shaw while Fusco went on. “It was nearly dark when they set out. Captain was an idiot but even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to traipse through the Blackwood for long at full dark.”

 

“I think Lionel might be a touch afraid of the dark,” Root faux whispered.

 

Shaw turned to him, “Did you forget to bring your blankie?”

 

“Yes, make with the witticisms,” Fusco grumbled. “From the looks of things you’d be an idiot or mad not to be afraid.” He stopped walking for a moment to reach for his water skin, “I know exactly which camp the two of you fall into.”

 

“Genius is often mistaken for madness,” Root shrugged. She wandered over to a pair of oak trees just off the trail.  Shaw remained by Fusco’s side. She grabbed her own water to take a drink. The pair of them watched as Root circled the trees.

 

“If she starts signing to the tree I am walking back home.” He slapped at a fly buzzing around his head.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes at him. She shrugged her pack from her shoulders and set it on the ground. She was carrying most of her and Root’s gear. Including the food. She flipped open the top of the bag and knelt down to start digging around for the parcel of dried meat she had set on top of everything. Shaw grinned when her fingers brushed against the package. She quickly removed it from the pack and pulled out a strip. She had half of it in her mouth before she was standing straight again.

 

Fusco watched her eat with hopeful eyes. Shaw huffed, knowing Root would want her to share with him. She begrudgingly held a small strip out to Fusco. He took it and quickly stuffed it into his mouth before she could think better of her offer. He leaned against a tree while he finished the snack and drank more of his water. Shaw made a mental note to find a stream. He would need more soon at the rate he was going.

 

“How often do you see bears in this area?” Root’s voice floated over to them from behind the trees.

 

Fusco straightened up. “Not often. But there are some that live in this part of the wood. Occasionally a noble or two from the capitol will get bored and come though the village on the way to a hunt. Usually hire on a couple of the boys to serve as guides. Keeps the population down.”

 

“Seems it’s back up again.”

 

Fusco and Shaw glanced at each other and made their way over to Root. They circled the trees to find her examining a break in the trunk of one. There was a set of claw marks making a crooked X shape in the bark just above Root’s head. “This is clearly someone’s territory.” She traced the mark with two fingers.

 

“Bears don’t haul cows out of fields.”

 

“Not typically, no.” Root batted a fly away from her face and then frowned. “Little late in the season for flies.”

 

“Apparently, man and beast are going mad these days,” Fusco grumbled as he slapped another fly that had landed on his neck.

 

Root was about to reply when her stomach rumbled, loudly. Fusco snorted. Shaw rolled her eyes. “Come on,” She gestured for Root to follow her back to where she left her pack. “I swear if I didn’t remind you to eat you’d die.”

 

When they got back to where she had left the pack, Shaw quickly opened it and tossed Root the parcel of dried meat and an apple. She beamed at her and took a bite of the fruit before settling down at the base of one of the trees. Fusco ambled over to sit beside her. After a moment he cleared his throat and Root held the packet of meat out to him. Shaw rolled her eyes. Didn’t the guy bring his own food?

 

Root then proceeded to recline against the tree as if the three of them were merely on a casual stroll through the wood and had stopped for a picnic. Of course Fusco stuffing his face did nothing to diminish the effect. While the two of them ate Shaw circled the little glen checking the trees for more marks, or other signs of a bear in the area. It wouldn’t do to stumble into a den unawares.

 

The wind shifted causing Shaw to wrinkle her nose in distaste. She wandered to a break in the trees just north of where they had stopped. “Damn,” She sighed. “That explains the flies.”

 

“Shaw?” Root called out in concern. Most likely because Shaw was no longer in her line of sight.

 

“I found them.” What was left anyway.

 

Whenever the attack had come it had been swift and brutal. Tents stood tattered, as if caught in a storm of razors. Ashes from the cook fire were scattered about like something or someone had charged right through them. There were furrows in the grass where something had been dragged away and into the brush.

 

And then there were the bodies.

 

Calling them bodies would be charitable. It was more like the ground was strewn with bits of bone and meat. Shaw swallowed, the carnage was a bit much even for her to take in. She held up a hand to try and keep the others back but it was too late.

 

“Are there any…” The rest of Fusco’s sentence was choked off as he took in the scene. The ground was splattered with red. The grass. The trees ringing the site. The bits of armor abandoned here and there. All coated in dark, rust colored blood stains. A cloud of flies hovered all around it, filling the air with an eerie hum.

 

Fusco fell to a knee and began to pray. Shaw felt Root’s hand on the small of her back. The other woman took in a ragged breath. Shaw felt the slightest tremor in her hand. She took a step back and grasped Root’s arm. She pulled her back until the campsite was out of view once again.

 

“We should,” Root began. She a hand through her hair. “I don’t know actually.” It was a rare thing to see Root at a loss for the correct action. Shaw tensed her jaw. Poor bastards.

 

“Whatever did this,” Fusco sniffed. Shaw turned to look at him. He was shaking. His face crimson from rage. “We destroy it. We end it. We tear it apart like they…we don’t stop until it’s dead.”

 

Shaw nodded. “Circle around. See if you can find any tracks.” Fusco nodded and started walking south. “Root?”

 

She straightened her shoulders, “I’ll take north.” She gave Shaw a small smile and then started forward.

 

Shaw watched her pick her way through the brush for a few moments. Then she took a deep breath and walked back and into the clearing. They hadn’t been searching long when a roar echoed through the trees. “It came from over there,” Root shouted and sprinted up a small hill. Shaw and Fusco swiftly followed.

 

Root was on her hands and knees leaning over the edge of a ravine when they crested the hill. “There, across the river,” She pointed. Shaw and Fusco skidded to a stop behind her to stare down in shock. A large black form was moving quickly under the surface of the water near the far bank. The three of them watched as a massive, hairy body ambled on to the shore and then shook the water out of its fur.

 

“Holy…” Fusco sucked in a panicked breath. He blinked rapidly, not believing he was actually seeing what was right in front of him.

 

“Bear,” Shaw muttered, even she was taken aback by the sheer size of the beast. “Not like Bear, bear, but an actual evil bear.”

 

“I doubt it’s evil. That implies some form of intent,” Root explained if that should have been obvious. “It’s just natural instinct to defend what it sees as its territory.”

 

“Oh yeah I'm sure it just wants a hug.” Fusco rolled his eyes. “You did notice what that thing did to my guys?”

 

“Instinct, again not evil.”

 

“Whatever the reason, we can’t just let that thing wander around.” Shaw stood up and began to make her way down the ridge towards the riverbank.

 

“Just so I’m clear, we’re following the giant killer bear?” Fusco sputtered. Sure he wanted to destroy that monster for what it had done to his men, but the three of them alone against it? Felt like the odds were against them. Though seemed like he was the only one who thought that way. And here he had picked Tiny as the sane one.

 

Shaw stopped to turn and glare up at him, “You got a better plan?”

 

“Go back to the village for reinforcements for starters.”

 

“You have two wet behind the ears guardsmen and a bunch of farmers back there. Some help.”

 

Alright that was true. Those boys could barely handle a rowdy drunk let alone that monster they just saw. “Then we wait for men from the capitol,” He reasoned. A lot more men from the capitol actually.

 

“And risk losing that thing in the wood? Or worse yet it circles back to the village?” Shaw shook her head. “No, we need to put it down before it kills anyone else.”

 

“She’s right,” Root added. “It has to be now and it has to be us.”

 

Of course she’d agree with this crazy idea. “Is that you or the voices in your head talking?”

 

“Both,” Root smiled and took Shaw’s outstretched hand to make her way down.

 

Fusco rolled his gaze skyward. “Why I didn’t just take over the farm like Papa wanted?”

 

“You coming or talking to your imaginary friends?” Shaw shouted from below.

 

“Don’t get your smalls in a twist, Tiny.” He couldn’t believe he was about to say it but, “I’m coming.”

 

The bear had a head start on them but once they managed to cross the river, it’s trail wasn’t at all difficult to follow. Something that big left a bevy of snapped branches and broken grass in its wake. They followed the track as it wound through the trees, eventually they came to a small clearing.

 

“There,” Root pointed at a dark hollow in the hill across the glen from them.

 

It was a cave. The half consumed carcasses of several animals lay about the ground around the entrance. Thankfully, none of Fusco’s comrades’ remains lay with them. He whistled at the sight, “I think we found the right spot.”

 

Shaw gestured for him to shut his trap. Yes, this looked to be the bear’s den. Problem was, they still weren’t sure where the bear was. The three of them crouched in the brush and listened for any sign that the beast was near. A few flies whirred from place to place but nothing like back at the ruined camp. For a moment there was no sound but their buzzing and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

 

Shaw leaned in close to whisper in Root’s ear, “She able to tell you anything?”

 

“It’s hard to see,” Root replied, voice equally hushed. “But She thinks we’re clear.”

 

“So She’s guessing.”

 

Root shrugged and stood up, “Her guess is better than many men’s certainty.” She carefully made her way to the mouth of the cave.

 

Shaw grit her teeth and stood up. When she drew her sword, Fusco sputtered, “The voices in that one’s head are going to get us all killed.”

 

“Believe me, I understand that far better than you do.” Shaw told him and stepped out of cover. She joined Root, who was running her hands over the stone wall. “Do I even want to ask?”

 

“It’s not a natural cave,” Root answered as Fusco finally joined them.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Look at the walls.” Root slapped her hand against the stone, “Here,” And again, “And here, tool marks.”

 

Fusco ran his hand over the wall beside him and squinted, “I think she’s right.”

 

“She usually is,” Shaw replied, “And it’s just as annoying as you’d think.” She knelt down and slung the pack off of her shoulder and on to the ground. She began digging in it for the lantern and candle she had seen Root stuff in there that morning.

 

“I love you too, Sweetie,” Root chuckled. “Let’s see where it leads.”

 

Fusco snorted, “Probably to an angry, evil bear’s nest.”

 

Root held up a finger, “The proper term is den.”

 

“Yeah, because proper terminology is what’s important right now,” He scoffed.

 

“Little tip, Lionel,” Shaw said poking the man in the side with her hand not holding the now lit lantern. “You’ll never win an argument with her. So just let it go now.”

 

He sucked in his cheeks making his sour expression more pronounced, “How do you put up with her?”

 

“Lots and lots of fantastic sex,” Root’s voice drifted out to them from deeper within the cave. “Are you two planning on joining me sometime today?” Shaw rolled her eyes but moved to follow her inside.

 

Soon the cave became more of a corridor. The walls becoming square. Eventually they gained carvings. Iron rungs that once held torches. Bits of moldering tapestries.

 

“What is this place?” Shaw wondered aloud.

 

“The tree people once held the Blackwood as scared ground,” Root replied. “This must be one of their temples.”

 

“If it was so important, why did they abandon it?”

 

Root shrugged her shoulders. “Things happen. Beliefs change.”

 

They stepped out into a larger space. A meeting area or simply the junction between several corridors, Shaw couldn’t tell in the meagre light. She quickly shuffled after Root who had gone much further into the room while she had been looking around.

 

“But how is it that no one knew this place was here?” Fusco stumbled on something and just barely managed to regain his balance.

 

“Walking and talking at the same time too taxing for you, Lionel?” Shaw chuckled.

 

“Tripped on a stick or something.” He squatted down. “You wanna bring that lantern back over?” Shaw rolled her eyes at Root but moved closer to the guardsman. “Awe damn,” He groaned as the flickering light revealed that he had stumbled into a pile of bones.

 

“Looks like your men weren’t the first our beastly friend snacked on.”

 

“There must be the bones of at least ten men here,” Fusco shook his head. “Poor bastards.” He began to mutter a prayer. Root and Shaw stood silently until he finished.

 

They were about to move on when something in the pile caught Root’s eye. She knelt down and began shifting the bones to one side. “Oh come on, it was bad enough that I stepped on them, do you really have to do that?” Fusco protested.

 

“Just shut up a second,” Shaw snapped, she wasn’t sure what Root was doing but she knew she wouldn’t be doing it without good reason. Fusco scowled but stopped talking. Root hummed in satisfaction when she finally got a hand on what she was looking for. Soon she held up a jawless skull still wearing its helmet.

 

Fusco lost his patience again at the sight, “If you think I’m going to let you take a memento...”

 

“Can you bring the light closer, Shaw?” She requested cutting him off. Shaw obliged her. Once she had more light Root turned the helmet over in her hands. “This helmet is standard issue for Decima foot soldiers.”

 

Shaw reached out and took the skull and helmet from Root’s hand. She angled the helmet so that it caught more light. “She’s right. They always make the nose guard double width. Ugly and effects sight lines.” Decima being involved was in no way a good thing. “Why would Decima soldiers be here?”

 

“They probably weren’t. Bet someone stole the helmet and then that someone got very unlucky,” Fusco guessed.

 

“Or maybe they were part of a scouting party sent back when Greer was hatching his get Samaritan out of jail plan?” Shaw countered.

 

“Decima men never got this close to the capitol.” Root shook her head and took the skull from Shaw to lay it back to rest where she found it. “Plus, the attacks are too recent,” She argued as she stood back up. “The bear must have just moved into this area. Whoever this man was, he was here in the last few months. Whatever Decima was looking for here turned the bear into this monster.”

 

“If something down here turned a normal bear into that thing we saw then I hope to any god that will listen that Greer doesn’t get this boney fingers on it.”

 

“Indeed,” Root agreed. “Come on we’re almost to the other end.” She started walking into the darkness as if she could see perfectly.

 

“How does she know that?”

 

“Let it go, Lionel. You wouldn’t believe me even if I wanted to try and explain it to you.” Shaw quickly turned to follow after Root.

 

Root was right again of course. The floor of the tunnel began to gradually slope upwards. They walked along for another ten minutes before the incline led them up and into an open courtyard of sorts. Fusco whistled. It seemed they had discovered some sort of temple garden. A gigantic oak tree towered over them, all but blotting out the sky with its branches. Four circular stone towers stood sentinel around it. A long green field stretched around them giving way to more of the wood a fair distance away from where Shaw stood. To the right several terraces ran up a gentle slope until the tree’s canopy blocked the view. To the left were the crumbling remnants of a high stone wall.

 

“Looks like the Decima squad had been set up here,” Shaw pointed to what was left of a base camp about a hundred paces down field from their position.

 

They started their search there. A fire pit had been dug and abandoned, an iron spit still waiting for a roast. A trio of tattered tents formed a crude horseshoe around it. A wagon sat without its driver between the campsite and the southernmost tower. Tools and weapons were laying out everywhere as if their owners simply left them for a moment planning to return and pick them right back up. Nothing was packed away. “If anyone managed to get out they didn’t take much with them.”

 

“It’s like whoever was here just vanished.”

 

“The more time I spend with the two of you the weirder things get.”

 

Shaw snorted, he had no idea how weird Root could get. “Hey, you invited us to the party.”

 

“And I am so very glad you did, Lionel.” Root skipped over to one of the towers to get a better look. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

 

Fusco turned wide eyes to Shaw. “That one’s egg is well and truly scrambled.”

 

“Shut up and go check the northern tower,” She growled. He puffed out his cheeks as if he was about to argue but thought better of it and stomped off as requested. He stumbled about half way. He cursed loudly and shook his right foot. “Damn ground is full of holes. Nearly broke my damn ankle!”

 

Shaw shook her head at him and went after Root. She found her in a little shrine created in a hollow formed by the roots of the tree. “Find anything useful?”

 

“Loads,” Root replied. Shaw could tell she was smiling from the sound of her voice. She moved to stand beside her. Root was staring up at the walls with shining eyes. Nearly every bit of vertical space in the room was covered with colorful murals.

 

“These depict battles between the old ones and their followers. Take this section here,” Root pointed to a carved relief of a warrior standing over some type of beast, “Apparently the clan chieftain killed one and took on its essence, passing it down through the generations.”

 

“Root, I am sure that is all very fascinating but how about you save your scholarly freak out until after we've dealt with the demonic bear that probably wants to eat us?”

 

She turned to look at Shaw and licked her lips, “Can’t blame it in your case.”

 

Shaw’s lips ticked up in the tiniest grin. “Somehow I think it would be less fun for me than when you do it.”

 

Root turned back to the wall, “I’d like to come back here with the boys after we take care of the slight bear infestation.” She reached out as if to touch one of the figures but thought better of it and pulled her hand back, “There’s so much we could learn here.”

 

The prospect held no personal appeal for Shaw but she understood Root’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure Daizo would sell his mother to get his hands on some of this stuff.”

 

“I’m not sure he has a mother.”

 

“Romeo then.”

 

Root tilted her head in thought, “Dai would be getting the better end of that deal for certain.”

 

Shaw chuckled, “I’m sure your uncle would let you come back here to gawk to your heart’s content.”

 

“Even with our connection to Her, there is still so much we don’t know about the old ones.” What Root didn’t say was that even years later she was still concerned what effects if any coming into contact with Samaritan’s blood might have on Shaw in the long term. The answer to those concerns may well lay within these ruins.

 

Shaw held up her hands, “You don’t have to sell me on the idea, Root.” They needed to know more, if only to understand why Greer would have risked sending men this deep into Thornhill.

 

“Shit!”

 

Root and Shaw glanced at each other and then sprinted towards the entrance to the courtyard. They found Fusco standing not too far off. “What happened?”

 

“I ruined a perfectly good pair of boots is what happened,” He grumbled. Shaw looked down at his feet. She smirked, oh literal shit.

 

“You’ve an excellent knack of stumbling into clues, Lionel,” Root chuckled.

 

“A pile of shit is a clue?”

 

“It’s proof our furry friend has indeed been through here,” She replied with a shrug.

 

“The pile of bones back there didn’t tell us that already?” He scoffed.

 

“This place is littered with tunnels.” She gestured over her shoulder to the room she and Shaw had just been standing in. “There were two separate paths leading back down in there alone. I bet we’re standing on top of a warren of underground structures.”

 

Shaw pursed her lips at the thought. “And we don’t exactly have the time or the manpower to search them all.”

 

“Exactly, Sweetie,” Root grinned at her. “But we know the bear has been through here by way of that tunnel,” She pointed to where they had entered the area. “Thanks to Lionel we also know that it’s comfortable here, which means we’re likely to see it here again.”

 

“Meaning we can set a trap for it,” Fusco supplied, catching on.

 

“I could hit it from one of the towers no problem.” Shaw squinted up at the nearest one. Good sight lines. Kept them out of the bear’s impressive reach. Wouldn’t be a hard throw to make. “Only problem I can see is we don’t know if just a spear can kill it.” That hide seemed pretty thick even at a distance. She looked at Root, “Did you pack a firewall?”

 

Root’s eyes filled with a wild glow, “Something even better.”

 

“I swear to god I don’t know what you two are blathering on about half the time.”

 

“Tell me, Lionel,” Root grinned manically at him. “Are you scared of thunderstorms?”

 

They spent the next day and a half camped out on the top of two of the towers. Lionel on the northernmost one, and Root and Shaw on the westernmost. They figured that when and if the bear returned to the river tunnel, it would most likely pass between them. Well, they figured with a little guidance from Root’s constant shadow.

 

It paid off when just before dusk on their second day a woofing sound echoed across the courtyard. Fusco waved from his post and pointed towards the tree line. The bear lumbered into view. They watched as it sniffed the air, emitting a growl at what Shaw was sure was their scent.

 

While a normal bear may have backed out of the area in fear of unknown predators in its space, this one charged forward. It snorted and clacked its teeth as it drew nearer to where they lay in wait. They were ready. Everything was going according to plan.

 

Their target almost in range, Shaw tightened her grip on the weapon in her hand. Root had attached two of her special vials to the shaft of one of the boar spears. “Only one shot?” Fusco had grumbled. “What if Tiny misses?”

 

“I don’t miss,” Shaw had smoothly replied. Now she hefted that spear. Her mind swiftly calculating the distance, wind speed, and correct force to send the projectile home. She glanced at Root who nodded. With a deep breath Shaw stood up and let the spear fly.

 

Her aim was impeccable. The spear embedded itself between the bear’s front shoulders. The vials shattered on impact. The liquid emitted an eerie blue glow for a moment and then a crackling sound began. Streaks of lightning enveloped the bear. It roared as its body began to smoke and twitch from the repeated strikes. Before long the smell of burnt fur wafted up to them.

 

Root cackled in gleeful excitement. “I do so love when a plan comes together.” Shaw gifted her with a rare, wide, teeth baring smile.

 

They scrambled to climb down from the towers when the lightning stopped. Their quarry had stumbled a fair distance away before finally succumbing to the onslaught brought on by Root’s formula. But it hadn’t moved a muscle in a few minutes. Root made sure to poke it with their remaining spear a few times just in case, however.

 

“I can’t believe you brought that thing down so easily,” Fusco gaped at the corpse.

 

Shaw grinned at him, “This is why you bring in the professionals, Lionel.”

 

He shook his head, though he didn’t begrudge her some bravado. It had been one hell of a throw. “What now?”

 

“We take the head.” Shaw walked around the still smoking body. “Maybe the front paws? Proof of the kill.”

 

“Oh why not take them all,” Root chuckled. “They’ll be more than enough proof to return you to the village’s good graces, I’d wager,” She smiled at Fusco.

 

“Tiny killed it.”

 

“True.” Shaw nodded. At Root’s frown she rolled her eyes and added, “And I wouldn’t have been here to do it if not for your message.” Shaw reached for her sword and then frowned. She had left it on top of the tower. She had taken her sword belt off the night before after Root kept complaining that it had been poking her in her side. Shaw didn’t feel the cold anymore but Root’s delicate frame went into full shivers at the slightest hint of frost. She had curled herself around Shaw in an attempt to keep warm.

 

Shaw glared up at the tower and then back at what was left of the bear. She walked over to the abandoned Decima camp and dug around in one of the boxes of equipment until she found what she was looking for. Shaw held a small hatchet aloft. “I’m keeping a pair of the claws though.”

 

“How do you suggest we get it back to Turing?” Fusco was all for bringing proof back but even pieces of that thing were going to be heavy. He wrinkled his nose. And it was already starting to smell.

 

“That wagon over there.” Shaw pointed back towards the south tower. Decima had gotten the wagon in here so there had to be a route wide enough to get it back out. The horse was obviously long gone but if the wheels were still good they could load the head and whatever useless junk Root wanted to take back to fawn over with Daizo and her uncle, and push it back to the village.

 

“Excellent idea, Sweetie.” Root did a little bounce, unable to contain her excitement. “Plenty of room for your trophies and for a few odds and ends for me.”

 

“Just don’t go crazy packing your bits and bobs,” Shaw grumbled as she came back over to the carcass. She reached out and adjusted one of the bear’s hind legs. “We still have to be able to pull the wagon ourselves.”

 

Root ran her had along Shaw’s bicep, “I think we’ll be just fine.”

 

“Uh huh,” Shaw rolled her eyes. She raised the axe and brought it down in a swift, violent arc. The paw was severed off cleanly with one blow. Fusco scrambled backwards to avoid the castoff of blood from the blade as Shaw raised it again.

 

“Go get one of those crates,” She pointed the axe to what she wanted. Fusco gladly went to grab it as it got him cleanly out of the way. The smell and the sight was making him a little queasy. Shaw made quick work of the first two paws and placed them in the crate when he brought it over. Then she moved to the bear’s head and front paws.

 

It wasn’t long before Shaw hefted the last of the paws into the crate. They took up the entire space within it. She pursed her lips, “Have to grab another one for the head.”

 

“I don’t think it’s previous owners will miss it if we take another,” Root joked. She made an excellent point though. “Lionel, how about you and I see about that wagon?”

 

“Sure,” He shrugged. It wasn’t like Shaw needed his help with the cutting. She was freakishly strong for such a small woman.

 

Root gestured towards the crate with the bear claws. “Grab that will you?”

 

Fusco scowled and turned to Shaw. “Who died and made her queen?”

 

“No one yet,” Root quipped. Fusco remained by Shaw’s side to glower.

 

“Just go with her to check the wagon.”

 

“Why am I lugging this thing all the way over there if we don’t even know if the wagon is useable?” Shaw only glared at him and raised the bloody hatchet. “Fine,” He huffed. He picked the crate with the bear bits up and waddled under its weight over towards the wagon.

 

Shaw turned her attention back to what was left of the bear. She tilted her head trying to figure out which angle would be the best to take when lopping its stupid head off. She had just raised the hatchet for her first strike when a noise from the nearby brush caught her attention. She glanced back over at Root and Fusco, the pair of them had stopped moving as well.

 

“You hear that?” Shaw stepped away from the bear and slowly made her way closer to the tree line. The rustling grew louder. It definitely wasn’t the wind.

 

“Sameen,” Root called with worry.

 

Shaw held up a hand. “Just stay back there.” She slowly took a step backwards. The brush in front of her began to shake. She tightened her hand on the axe handle. She blinked.

 

And a rabbit came bounding past her feet. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Fusco began to laugh. She glared over her shoulder at him. “Scared of the little bunny, Dragon Slayer?” He doubled over. “Want me to come hold your hand?” He wheezed.

 

“You can take your hand and shove it up your ass, Lionel!” She turned to help him do just that when the bushes rustled again. “And we’re having rabbit for dinner!” She spun around and froze in her tracks.

 

Another bear was glaring at her.

 

“There was more than one.”  Shaw threw the hatchet hitting the new bear in the snout. “Run.”

 

“Sameen!” Root screamed as not one but two bears rushed out of the brush behind a sprinting Shaw.

 

Fusco shoved her in the side. “The ladder, go.” She nodded and began to climb up the side of the south tower. She kept glancing over her shoulder to track Shaw’s progress. So far she had managed to stay ahead of the charging beasts.

 

As soon as she reached the top of the tower, Root darted over to the side to watch Shaw. Fusco soon joined her. “She’ll make it,” He huffed falling forward onto the parapet to catch his breath.

 

Shaw was running towards them and then in an instant she was gone as if the very ground had swallowed her whole. “Sameen,” Root screamed.

 

“Must ‘ave been a cave in,” Fusco wheezed, still bent half way over the stone wall.

 

“Sameen, hold on I’m coming to get you,” Root shouted. There was no reply. The only sound was their own breathing and the rumbling growls from the bears. Root made for the ladder to climb back down. Fusco hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet. She thrashed against his hold, “Let me go.”

 

“You’ll never get to her that way.”

 

“Watch me,” She sneered elbowing him in the gut. He grunted in pain, but to his credit he didn’t let her go.

 

“I know you’re crazy but don’t be an idiot. They’re still coming.” Root shifted focus from the spot where she last saw Shaw to the two bears that were rapidly advancing towards them. “You’ll be dead before you cover ten paces. Right now she’s safer than we are.”

 

“Is she alive?” She slumped against him.

 

Fusco let her go. “Depends on how far she fell.”

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Root snapped.

 

“Who the hell else would you be talking to?” Fusco shook his head. She’d gone completely round the twist. She ignored him staring blankly up at the sky. Great, two more monsters to deal with and his only help seemed to have lost what little sense she had. He leaned against the parapet to look over the side. The bears were now circling the base of the tower.

 

“Thank you,” Root said after a beat. She looked relieved.

 

He was glad she seemed to have gathered a little bit of her wits. Though Fusco was still confused, “For what?”

 

She shook her head at him and then moved to glare down at the bears. “I am going to skin you and turn you into a lovely rug for in front of the fireplace for my lady and I to frolic upon,” She shouted. “Then I’m going to skin your little buddy and turn him into a suit!”

 

“You really think the bear understands you?”

 

“Murderous intent is universal!” She grinned. Fusco swallowed. Her expression was downright creepy.

 

“How about you try taking a breath for a second so we can figure out what to do about the pile of shit we just landed in?”

 

“Fine,” She snapped. Her grip on the stone turning her knuckles white. After a few moments spent listening to the bears growls as their frustration at not being able to reach them grew, she turned around and took a seat with her back against the parapet.

 

Fusco remained standing, keeping watch. “I didn’t think bears worked in packs.”

 

Root tilted her head to look up at him, “They don’t normally. Those two are clearly mother and cub.”

 

“Let me guess, the one Tiny took out was daddy?”

 

“Well I didn’t check under his skirt but…” Root trailed off with a sigh. Now that the initial panic and rage had worn thin she felt exhausted. Defeated. She shouldn’t have let her guard down so soon. She should have known that one bear would not have been able to take out an entire squad of armed men without injury, even a magically enhanced one. She should have stayed close to Sameen.

 

“Hey,” Fusco sat beside her. “Shaw’s gonna be okay.”

 

“Of course she is,” Root brushed his concern off. “Shaw killed a dragon. Some silly old bears won’t bring her down.” She snorted. “You know what I mean.”

 

He grinned, “Down there is probably safer than up here.”

 

“She’d hate it if she knew I was wasting time worrying over her.”

 

“Tiny strikes me as hating a lot of things.”

 

Root smiled softly, “Oh you have no idea.”

 

“Also you’re not one of them,” He shrugged and stood up again to keep watch.

 

Eventually the bears grew tired of waiting and ambled over to the carcass of the other member of their sloth. Which after a moment they began to noisily devour. “No accounting for loyalty,” Fusco grumbled.

 

“Better it than us,” Root sighed.

 

“Yeah, well they got food but we don’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Their supplies were on two other towers. Of course the nearest one when they were running for their lives couldn’t have been one of those. “We can’t stay up here forever.”

 

“Oh I don’t intend to.” She glanced up and smiled. “How are you with climbing trees, Lionel?”

 

Root had to give it to Fusco, the large man was a far better climber than one would assume on first glance. He had given her a quick boost up so that she could grab the branch that hovered just above their place on the tower. Then with the branch sufficiently lowered by her weight he was able to hop up and grab it to pull himself on to it. Thankfully the ancient tree was strong enough to support both of their weight.

 

They shimmied on their bellies along the thick branch to the trunk. Then it was simply a matter of lowering themselves from branch to branch until the ground was at a safe distance to leap down. Thankfully, all the while the bears remained occupied consuming their comrade.

 

“What’s the plan here?” He hissed once they were both back on the ground.

 

“We find Shaw.” With one glance back to the bears she hurried towards the room at the base of the tree. They were able to make it inside without attracting any attention to themselves. Root quickly crossed the space and shoved opened a door on the left side of the room. As soon as it was open she darted inside.

 

“You said yourself that there could be hundreds of tunnels down here,” Fusco huffed as he struggled to keep up with her pace. “How will we know which way to go?”

 

She stopped walking causing him to almost run her down. “She fell between the southern and western towers. So we track southwest.”

 

“In the dark?”

 

Root smiled at him and removed one of the vials from her belt. With a shake the liquid inside began to glow. “Not as bright as a lantern but we must make do with what we have.” The light was enough that they wouldn’t run into a wall but it didn’t illuminate more than two paces in front of them.

 

“So a glowy thing,” Fusco waved at the object in her hand. “My sword and shield.” Both were still strapped to his back.

 

“Several knives,” Root added. She hooked her thumb over her shoulder to sheathe on her back, “The other spear.”

 

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything else like that bottled lighting in your little bag of tricks?”

 

“Sadly no,” She replied as she began walking again. “Everything else I have is more medicinal. I do have two vials of sleeping solution.”

 

He perked up at that news. “So maybe one ugly could take a forced nap if we run into trouble?”

 

“Maybe.” Root shrugged, “There’s no telling how effective it would be on something that size. Best we avoid them all together if at all possible.”

 

“You won’t hear me arguing about that plan,” Fusco replied.

 

They wandered in the near dark for what felt like days. The crumbling passages were like a maze. Fusco knew it couldn’t have been that long, but the darkness, the twists and turns, the feeling of being surrounded on all sides, each served to distort his sense of time. Root remained steady at his side. Each time they came to a dead end and had to double back served to only reinforce her desire to find Shaw.

 

“We should be getting close,” She reassured him after taking another wrong turn.

 

“What happened to your freaky sense of direction?” When they had been in the woods the woman seemed to know exactly where to go. Even when they first arrived in the temple, she had known the proper route to take to the temple gardens.

 

“It’s hard to see.”

 

“That happens in the dark.”

 

“It’s not so much about the lack of light as it is the spirit of this place?”

 

“Okay you’re getting all philosophical on me again.”

 

“Some places have a certain energy, Lionel,” She explained. “Those energies can interfere with other magics.”

 

“So now you’re trying to tell me you’re magical?” Fusco snorted.

 

“Simply that I have a gift.”

 

“If running into dead ends in an underground maze is your gift, I’d return it to the shop,” He grumbled. “You got cheated.”

 

Root chuckled as she turned down another passageway. “Very few things in this world are perfect.”

 

“Yeah but…” Fusco’s voice trailed off.

 

Root slowed her steps, “Lionel?”

 

“Shhh.” She froze in place. For a moment all she could hear was their breathing. Then she heard it. It sounded like stone grinding against stone. The sound seemed to be coming from the passage they had just exited. Fusco slung his shield from his back and drew his sword. “You might want to get that spear handy,” He whispered as the scraping sound grew louder.

 

The pair of them began to slowly walk backwards in the opposite direction from the noise. “If one of those things charges at us, you run,” Fusco tried to order her.

 

She stayed right at his back. “It’s sweet that you think I need protecting.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Fusco huffed. “If one of those things charges us you can stay here and I’ll run.”

 

“You’re a real hero, Lionel.”

 

“Never claimed to be.”

 

A grunt came from the right. Before either of them could react, a massive paw hammered into Fusco’s sword arm. He screamed as claws tore through the thick leather armor and tore into his flesh. He dropped his sword but managed to bring his shield up and around to bash against the bear’s side creating enough space between them to fall back.

 

Fusco pulled his wounded arm into his body. “You wanna distract this thing so I can run away while I still have an arm?” He grunted as the bear slammed a paw against his shield. He slid back a step from the force before he was able to steady himself.

 

“I don’t think either of us get to run away this time,” Root replied as her back hit the opposite wall.

 

Fusco held the shield steady even as hit after hit rattled every bone in his arm. Root reached around him to stab out with the spear. The bear roared, sending a wave of hot, fetid breath and spittle at them. It began to strike at Fusco’s shield with even more force. “Great,” He shouted, “You pissed it off.”

 

“I’ll have to shut it up then,” Root replied shoving the spear at the bear’s chest again. When she tried to pull it back out she found it was stuck. Great. She fumbled for the two vials of sleeping solution on her belt. “Hold your breath.”

 

“What?”

 

“Hold your damn breath.” Root ducked around Fusco and smashed the vials against the bear’s snout. It backhanded her with a paw sending her tumbling backwards. The vial of light shattered on the stone where she landed. Fusco quickly shifted his feet to put his body between Root and the bear. It fell onto the shield pressing its weight down on him, it’s movement noticeably slower. Fusco went down to his knees under the weight.

 

The bear growled. Root scrambled to her feet. She pulled one of her throwing knives. In the weak glow from the liquid on the floor she could see that Fusco was in a bad way. She asked for a steady hand and then threw the knife. Her aim was sure despite the darkness and the blade lodged in the bear’s right eye. It groaned and slumped to the side. Fusco pushed up with the shield and sent it toppling completely over.

 

He scooted back and finally stood up again. Root was quickly at his side. The bear pawed at the knife in its eye but slowly began to still. Eventually, it stopped moving all together. Root quickly ripped off a strip of cloth from her shirt. She turned around and knelt at the pool of glowing solution. She dabbed at the glowing liquid with the cloth causing it to glow. The light was faint but it was something.

 

She moved over to Fusco and slung an arm around his waist. They stumbled down the corridor, trying to put some space between them and the body. There was still one more bear to worry about. The carcass may very well draw it to them. After a span of about fifty paces the tunnel opened into another cavernous space. “We should go back for my sword,” Fusco mumbled.

 

“Sit,” Root directed him to a pile of stone. It looked to be the remnants of some kind of alter. “A sword won’t do you any good right now.”

 

“I’m more worried about it doing you some.”

 

“Hush.” She dug around in her belt until she held out a roll of bandages. “Let’s get that arm patched up.” She handed him the glowing cloth. “Keep it as steady as you can.” Fusco nodded and held the small source of light aloft.

 

Root hummed in sympathy at the state of his arm. The cuts were deep. She pulled one of the last vials from her belt. She poured its contents over the wounds. He hissed at the sting. “Sorry, but it will prevent infection.” The wounds would need stitching, but there was no way she could do that now under these conditions. She just had to hope the bleeding would taper off on its own and that the solution she just used would ward off infection.

 

“It’s fine.” Fusco grunted as she secured a strip of cloth around his arm. “I seemed to have dragged you into another one of my screw-ups.”

 

“Shaw and I both walked out here with our eyes wide open,” She replied as she tucked the rest of the roll of bandage back into its place on her belt.

 

“Yeah. Can’t help but think things tend to go south around me though.”

 

“Simmons was a lord in the king’s court. He was in town on a mission from King Harold himself. No one would suspect that he was going to burn down half the town because he had turned traitor.” Root knew about the fire beforehand but even she hadn’t initially known just how far Simmons had fallen due to his greed. She remembered what Shaw had told her days ago. “It wasn’t your fault. All the blame is his.”

 

Fusco thumped his chest. “The town was my responsibility. That many guys in town, even if I thought they were friendly, I should have doubled the watch, left a guard in the tavern.”

 

“So do better next time. Be better.”

 

“Yeah like they’re going to put me in charge ever again without murderous bear attacks taking most of the garrison out.”

 

“You don’t have to be the Captain to be better.” Root shrugged. “You already are.”

 

“How?”

 

“You’re here aren’t you?”

 

He snorted, “Is that being better or crazy?”

 

She chuckled, “I’m probably not the best to ask.”

 

“No doubt.” He stood up. “We should keep moving.”

 

“Lead the way.” She waved him forward. Fusco took three steps and stumbled, nearly dropping his shield. “Maybe I should go first.” She reached for the shield, “And carry that.”

 

They had taken maybe seven steps when a clacking sound echoed through the chamber.

 

Root’s breath hitched. She turned around slowly. She could feel Fusco’s breath on the back of her neck. She took a shuffling step forward. Fusco mirrored her movement. They heard the clacking sound again. He held the light out in front of them to reveal a mouth full of pointy, yellow teeth.                                                                                         

 

Root startled at the snarling bear. She shifted the knife in her hand. At least it was the smallest one. She spared a glance back at Fusco, “Stay behind me.” They slowly inched backward, Root kept her eyes on the bear waiting for it to lunge at them. It took a shambling step forward. She readied herself for a likely suicidal lunge for its throat. But then, suddenly it fell over at her feet with a whimper.

 

Fusco’s sword was sticking out from the bear’s spine. “What in seven frilly hells?” He gasped from behind her.

 

“That damn farmer owes me an entire cow,” A voice rasped from the darkness. “No, three cows. One for each pain in my ass demonic bear.”

 

“Sameen,” Root yelped. She dropped the shield with a clank, scrambling around the bear’s carcass to embrace her partner. Shaw slumped against the wall, filthy and bloody, but alive. Root practically tackled her in her enthusiasm to get her into her arms.

 

“I’m okay, Root,” She whispered into her hair. Shaw blinked at Fusco even the minimal amount of light from the cloth in his hand hurting her eyes after so much time wandering in the dark. “You okay, Lionel?”

 

He grinned, happy to see her, even happier that he was still alive. “Nothing a pint or seven won’t fix.”

 

“Good man.” Shaw groaned as she shifted her weight.

 

Root looked down and noticed a crude splint wrapped around her left leg. “Sameen?”

 

Shaw realized where Root’s gaze had fallen. “When the ground gave way I landed in some sort of burial chamber. Dislocated my shoulder trying to slow my fall on the way down, but was able to pop it back into place on my own.” She grimaced. “The knee wasn’t so easy. Good thing there are so many bones lying around down here.”

 

Fusco’s grin melted into a scowl, “Even beat up, you’re a freaking menace.”

 

Root snorted as Shaw rolled her eyes. “No one else was using them.” She slowly stood up with Root’s assistance. “Please tell me you know the way out of here?” She pointed at the bear, “I’m so hungry I could eat that thing.”

 

“My knee is fine,” Shaw groused a week later. “I don’t know why you’re making me ride back here like some sort of invalid.” She had slept for the majority of the trip home but the moment she had opened her eyes she had begun complaining about being in the back of the wagon instead of up front with Root or better yet on a horse.

 

“Your knee is still swollen, and the healer said it would be at least two weeks before you could ride.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me. I was there.” Though Shaw bet by the end of the week she’d be on a horse again. She was a quick healer.

 

“So you very well know why you’re riding in the back of the wagon like a conquering yet injured hero.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw huffed. “But why did we have to bring the damn bearskin with us now?” After a few days’ rest, Root and Fusco had returned to the temple grounds with an entire complement of guardsmen fresh from the capitol. Their job was to secure the area and seal up the entrances to the catacombs until exactly what had altered the bears could be determined. While Fusco remained on site to supervise the work Root arrived back in Turing two days later, bearskin in tow, to collect Shaw before she stabbed the healer.

 

“Because I made a promise,” Root cackled. “We’re fucking on that as soon as I get it arranged properly in front of the fireplace in our bedroom.”

 

“That thing is not going in the bedroom.” Shaw kicked the rolled up hide resting at her feet with her good leg. “It still smells like demon bear.”

 

“It’ll smell like you soon enough.”

 

“Root.”

 

“Sameen.”

 

“It’s not happening until that thing airs out a little more.” In the barn. Far, far away from her bed. She glared at it. Stupid bear. Stupid knee. Stupid wagon.

 

“Sameen.”

 

Shaw didn’t look up. “I didn’t stutter.” She wasn’t giving in on this one. Taking the hide as a trophy was one thing, having to smell it in her bedroom was quite another. Shaw was not interested in spending the next few weeks breathing in that particular stench of victory, thank you very much.

 

“Sameen.”

 

“What, Root?” She leaned down and grabbed the back of Shaw’s neck and pulled her into a fierce kiss. Many enjoyable moments later Root pulled away with a grin and then gently turned Shaw’s face towards the front of the wagon. “Oh.”

 

They were home. Daizo and the boys had been productive in their absence. The land Shaw had cleared two weeks before was now home to a proper workshop.

 

“Uh, surprise?”

 

“You did this for me?” Root beamed at her.

 

Shaw shrugged, “Obviously I didn’t do any building.”

 

“But it was your idea.” The way Root’s head was tilted, Shaw knew that She was telling her everything.

 

“You keep blowing holes in our roof with your stupid experiments,” Shaw scowled.

 

“Okay, the bearskin doesn’t have to go in the bedroom right away.” Root scrambled down from the driver’s box and made her way around to the back of the wagon.

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the abrupt change in topic. “Okay?” She ventured. Root lowered the gate and held out her hand to assist Shaw in climbing down.

 

Once both of her feet were on the ground Root looped an arm around her waist. She gave Shaw’s hip a hearty squeeze. “We’re gonna go christen every flat surface in my new workshop first!”

 


End file.
